


Simple As That

by MyckiMor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Language, M/M, Plotting, Slash, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyckiMor/pseuds/MyckiMor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there was one thing that Lucifer never got the hang of, it was sharing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I am simply not that clever. This work of fiction is for fan enjoyment, only. No infringement is intended.

If there was one thing that Lucifer never got the hang of, it was sharing. He didn't hide it, nor was he wasn't ashamed of the fact. It was what it was, and what was his was his. Heaven help the idiot who tried to take it from him, as Lucifer sure as Hell wouldn't. While his attempts at recovery weren't always successful (Crowley still held the proverbial throne, didn't he?), there were no ends to which Lucifer would not go to try. It was just that it sort of got to be a royal bitch fighting to keep his pretty little things, after a while, especially from a damned Cage.

Lucifer's things meant a great deal to him. Sam was one of his pretty little things, after all. And, right now, something – scratch that, some _one –_ was trying to take his Sam away from him.

That someone was too young, too short, and too damned smart to be so fucking _stupid._ The Prophet had no place playing with Lucifer's favorite toy. Laughing with him, hugging him, curling up against him in bed. Reassuring him when he had his doubts, tending to his scrapes and bruises, holding him and stroking his hair through the nightmares. No, no, that simply would not do. Sam was his, like it or not, mind, body, soul. There was no way some wimpy little _honor student_ was going to get in his way.

From one darkened corner of the bedroom, Lucifer watched the muscles of Sam's back tense and release as he drove himself in and out of the Prophet's body. He could see delicate fingers digging at Sam's shoulder blades, pressing into the skin above with desperation. Sharp cries and deep groans coursed through the air, incoherent babble passed between the two lovers as they neared climax. A kiss. And, then-

“I love you,” Sam gasped.

The Prophet whimpered. “I love you, too, Sam.”

Back in his corner, Lucifer smirked. _Hold on to that,_ he warned them, silently. _For so long as I let you._

If there was one thing that Lucifer would never bother to get the hang of, it was sharing. Because, this wasn't sharing, no, this was patience. Biding his time. And, when the moment was right, when he was strong enough, Lucifer would once again mark Sam Winchester his. But, not before Kevin Tran would learn what happened when he touched the Devil's things.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later. He could explore all of those wonderful ideas, later. Right now, he had a lesson to teach.

“I swear to fuck, Lucifer, I’m going to kill you.”

Across the room, Lucifer rolled his eyes. The threat was so dated, so used and worn, it was almost amusing. Almost. “I’m sure you will, Sam,” he replied, not hiding his patronizing tone. “But, for right now, why don’t you just sit back, and enjoy the show?” Sam growled, shuffling around, and Lucifer knew without looking that his beautiful vessel was fighting his bonds. “You keep that up, and you’ll give yourself rope burns.”

Well, that in and of itself was enough to put a dirty little image in Lucifer’s mind, and a smirk on his face. Later. He could explore all of those wonderful ideas,  _later._  Right now, he had a lesson to teach.

Stepping around the room, Lucifer moved to stand behind Sam’s chair. He leaned over the young man’s shoulder, lips ghosting across his ear. “Now, Sammy, I hope you’ll understand why I have to do this,” he murmured, fighting the urge to drag his tongue over the edges of his captive’s skin. “You have to learn that you’re not to be passed around like a whore.” The words were sweet, flowing from the Devil’s mouth with a patience and grace that he was quickly tiring of using. No one seemed to understand how much restraint this took, how much mental strain went into dealing with Sam Winchester. For all that he loved about the beautiful creature tied to the chair before him, Lucifer acknowledged that Sam could be a trying little shit when he wanted to.

“If you touch him, Lucifer, so help me!”

Now, unfortunately, was one of those times.

Yanking back from the chair, Lucifer slowly stalked his way back to the bed, keeping his eyes on Sam. “This is your punishment, Sam!” he yelled, pointing a finger in his vessel’s face. “You get to sit here, and you get to  _watch_  what happens to him.” He swung his arm to the side, until he was pointing at the unconscious form of Kevin Tran. “He needs to learn the same thing that  _you do._ ” Lucifer found himself close to seething, the thought that someone – this lowly, worthless  _human_  – had touched his Sammy. Yes, it was time that he began.

The Prophet was spread across the bed, limbs loose, right where Lucifer had left him. Sam was still shouting obscenities in his direction, but he brushed them aside. If anything, the words were beginning to spur him on, adding a little dose of heat to his desire for retribution. Oh, and this would be scorching.

“Kevin…” he cooed, softly, pulling one knee up onto the edge of the mattress. “Kevin… Are you awake, yet, Baby?” Lucifer heard Sam’s breath hitch, and he fought back a wicked grin. Two birds with one stone. “Come on, Kev, wake up.” Leaning over, Lucifer pressed his lips to the exposed side of the Prophet’s neck.

“You son of a bitch!” Sam roared, twisting wildly. “Kevin! Kevin,  _wake up!_  Ke-”

Lucifer growled, deep in his throat, launching himself back across the room. His fingers clenched and released, but he never took the swing. Despite how wonderful it would feel, he kept it to himself. Instead, he grabbed the first serviceable piece of clothing he could find (it looked like a hand-woven scarf, but Lucifer wasn’t in the mood for details), and wrapped it around Sam’s big mouth.

“Now, shut the hell up, and enjoy this!” he hissed, tying an extra knot in the fabric, before moving back to his… much smaller captive.

The Prophet was just stirring as Lucifer crawled back onto the bed, hovering over him as dark eyes blinking slowly up at… Well, for all intents and purposes…

“Hey, Sam…” he murmured, words still a bit slurred from sleep. A warm, tired smile slipped over his lips. “Guess I… took a nap, huh?”

Lucifer let loose a wide grin, tilting his face into the hand that came up to cup his cheek. This was coming together so perfectly. “Yes, you did,” he agreed, lips finding the Prophet’s palm. Delicate fingers slid through brown hair, to which Lucifer closed his eyes. How interesting it was that such a small action could feel so pleasant.

Well, what the hell was he thinking? If it wasn’t for teaching Sam a lesson, this human wouldn’t have been allowed to come  _close_  to laying a hand on him. Still, Lucifer was loathe to admit, swallowing back his disgust should have been more difficult than this.

“But, I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kevin practically giggled, raising his free arm to wrap around strong shoulders. “Why is that?”

Lucifer shook himself, mentally, pulling his focus away from the hand sliding down his back, and placing it back to the task at-hand. Looking down at the face beneath him, Lucifer nodded. “There’s something I want to show you…”


End file.
